


House for the Wayward Spy

by bearprincess



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (for the four of them to get together), (sam and steve are established from the beginning), Abuse, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Death, Domestic, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, unreality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1918299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearprincess/pseuds/bearprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wasn’t cocky, but he also knew Steve was wrapped around his finger. Also, Sam was a little cocky. Also, he knew Steve loved it that way.</p><p>**Tags will be added as chapters are posted, and trigger warnings will be put into the chapter notes at the beginning of the chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam and Steve's fingers were almost brushing on the table as they ate two Denny's Grand Slams. Sam noticed. He was pretty sure Steve noticed. He felt confident enough to at least hold the outside of Steve's fingers, and Steve smiled at him as soon as he did.

"It'll be alright,” Sam reassured him. “I'm sticking with you until we find him."

Steve nodded. He had hardly touched his food, which was pretty uncharacteristic. He mostly stared out the window or at his plate, pensive, gorgeous. Sam could hardly massively flirt with him in this state.

Sam laughed, which got Steve's attention. "Hey, maybe we could bait him. With a box, you know, and a string. What does he like?"

"Beer. Girls? Hot dogs." Steve was close to smiling, and Sam pushed him for it.

"Well, Independence Day is just around the corner. I'm sure he'll be in town." Steve finally laughed and Sam squeezed his hand again before he let go and relaxed into the booth. He sopped up his eggs with toast, and he pointed at Steve's plate. "You gonna eat that bacon?" Steve shook his head, and Sam took it and ate it and sucked the grease off his fingers.

He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Steve lick his lips. Sam could have just been projecting, though. Steve looked out the window again. "That's my birthday."

"What, Independence Day? You’ve got to be kidding me."

Steve shook his head and Sam laughed out loud, but stopped when Steve shot him a look. "I'm turning 96," Steve said. Sam tried not to laugh but he couldn't help it. He snorted into a chuckle into a belly laugh. Thankfully, Steve laughed, too.

"I'll make sure the cake doesn't melt from all the candles. Though it might have to be fake."

\--

It didn't take much more overt flirting until Sam's hand cupped Steve's cheek, and Steve smiled and held his hand. They were looking right at each other, and all the honking outside and the thrum of the air conditioner and the oppressive July heat didn't matter. The sunlight was pouring into Steve’s face and everything. It was so cliche that it was ridiculous; Sam felt, not for the first time, like they were on set.

"Can I kiss you?" Sam asked. Steve nodded and they both leaned into it, into each other. Sam could feel Steve smile against his mouth and he loved it--he squeezed Steve's hand as he kissed him a little harder and then pulled back. Steve cupped his face this time and kissed him again, tentatively licking Sam's lip until Sam parted them. He felt Steve turn into 240 pounds worth of putty as Sam sucked on his lip and held the small of his back.

Steve broke the kiss first. "I don't want to go too fast," he said, excitable and obviously pretty happy, too. Sam nodded, rubbing his smooth, broad back. They had both been lounging shirtless, just in boxers, and now Sam worried that, though it'd been fine platonically, it was a little much now. He picked up Steve's hand and kissed it.

"As slow as you want. I can always go slow," he said with a smile, and Steve smiled back and relaxed again.

"Honestly, I don't know where to start. I want to do a lot more than I think I'm ready for."

Sam's hand touched over his own heart. "Well, I'm flattered to have caused such lecherous thoughts." Steve laughed and pushed his shoulder gently (and Sam found his obvious restraint really sexy.) "We could keep kissing, or watch a movie or something?" Sam asked, rubbing Steve's fingers.

“Watching a movie with you sounds nice. What’s on Netflix?”

Sam snorted at Steve Rogers asking him what was on Netflix, but he passed over the Wii remote for Steve to scroll through himself. He settled on a nature documentary that Sam thought was an excuse to continue kissing, but Steve was actually pretty invested. Sam tried and failed at getting him back into making out.

Sam was definitely good with cuddling, though, and in the morning he woke up on the couch with a huge crick in his neck and a bigger smile on his face as he snuggled closer into Steve.

\--

Sam ~~complained whined~~ expressed disinterest about going to a lead to a mountain tall enough to have snowfall in August. They sat together in a tiny outpost next to a window, searching for motion. Sam hated the cold. But Steve was not easily deterred, at least as far as The Winter Soldier--Bucky, Sam corrected himself--was concerned. And Sam had to admit that the lead looked pretty solid, even if he wasn't happy about it.

Steve nudged his shoulder. Sam was a little embarrassed that he had been pouting so much about it, but it seemed to endlessly amuse Steve. “Think about all the skiing we could do," Steve said.

“I hate skiing.”

“Me too.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. Steve continued to clean his rifle, which was sexy in that weird stereotypical army way that Sam was a little uncomfortable with but still turned on by.

Sam motioned at the gun. "Do you think this is a trap, too? God it’s fucking cold."

"Sure. Hell, half of them have been. Seems way far out of the way for a lost man to be." Steve cracked his knuckles in his fingerless gloves. "And Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I watched Bucky die--or thought I did, I guess--in the snow. I was on ice for 60 years. I can flat out guarantee no one hates the cold more than I do." Steve never looked up. Sam stopped warming his hands by rubbing them together, which was superfluous anyway.

"Damn, man, you're laying on that Catholic guilt thick." Sam laid back in his chair, now fully embarrassed. He chewed on his beef jerky. "You can't take this out on me."

"Sorry," Steve cocked the rifle as he looked off into the distance. "Just frustrated. We've been searching for months."

"Yeah, well, we knew this wasn't gonna be a cakewalk." Not to mention, what were they going to do when they did find him? But Sam knew Steve had already thought about that, and it wouldn't help to bring it up.

Steve poured Sam coffee, bitter, hot apology coffee, and Sam drank it gratefully.

They wrapped it up after a few hours of looking and exploring and Sam flew them both back down the mountain. If the trip hadn't been so completely fruitless, they might have enjoyed the beautiful view. As it was, Steve had his eyes closed through most of it, and Sam was too focused on figuring out the next step.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve was a full body blusher, and Sam counted his blessings.
> 
> **Tags will be added as chapters are posted, and trigger warnings will be put into the chapter notes at the beginning of the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are sex oriented.

The second they were home Sam stripped to his boxers again, happy to be somewhere with more than one season. He watched Steve do the same and counted his blessings. Damn. Steve was distracting enough to make Sam forget to close the door behind him. Steve did it for him, and then put his palm flat against it to trap Sam, kissing him hot and so fucking good until Sam was breathless. Sam went a little weak at the knees.

“Is a bed moving too fast?” Sam asked. He almost wished Steve was still wearing pants, so he could have the honor of taking them off.

Steve shook his head, and Sam grinned broader, though he paused to stretch and show off. Steve snuck his arm around Sam's waist and put his head on Sam's shoulder and Sam wove his fingers into Steve's. They walked to the bedroom like that, slow, never not touching.

Once they walked in Sam flopped spread eagle on his bed and Steve scoffed and shoved him over to lay down next to him. Sam wasted no time curling up on Steve's chest.

"Do you always turn this red?" Sam teased, tracing his fingers from Steve's pink shoulders to his navel. Steve nodded, and Sam kissed him again because he didn't think he could get tired of it. "So, um. What do you like?"

"You," Steve said, and Sam felt his face get warm despite mild annoyance.

"That doesn't really help, but thanks. I'm guessing you like lots of kissing and reassurance?"

Steve nodded, blushing brighter. God he was so pretty. "At least at first. But I do like it... Rough, too. And fast. But, slow at first."

Sam nodded and smiled, squeezing Steve's hand. "Anything you need, Steve." He kissed Steve's neck and jaw. Sam hummed when he heard and felt Steve gasp. "I'm also guessing it's been a while." Steve's Adam's apple bobbed under his lips, then Steve nodded. He seemed kind of skittish and nervous. Sam touched his hips, and he flinched.

"Sorry,” Steve muttered. “I guess I need even slower."

Sam nodded. "I can't think of a single thing I want more than to treat you exactly like you want." He kissed Steve again, slow, unhurried. “Tell me if it’s too much or if I should stop. Is making out okay?” He waited for Steve’s nod, then began sucking on his tongue and lip, while nipping here and there to make Steve groan into his mouth. His hands stayed in place in Steve's hair and on the back of his neck, and Steve's huge arms engulfed him in a hug. It felt so close and intimate--Sam already craved it. He petted Steve's soft hair and Steve smiled against his mouth again. He relaxed beneath him, and Sam took the chance to straddle his waist but only to get a more comfortable angle to kiss. Of course. The brush of Steve's hard cock against his ass as he adjusted was purely incidental. Goddamn Sam’s tiny, form-fitting boxers that he totally wore on purpose.

Sam stopped kissing Steve for a minute, which made Steve pout his wet, red bottom lip. Sam popped it against Steve's teeth with his finger, and that earned him a rather surprised grunt. He started massaging Steve’s shoulders, and Steve hummed and closed his eyes. “Mm, hands feel nice.” He moved down to Steve’s pecs and messaged them too, ghosting kisses on Steve’s face and neck as he did.

“Move me if you need to, okay? It’s fine.” He slid off of Steve and sat on his knees beside Steve’s muscular ribs. He massaged Steve’s chest and shoulders and the back of his neck, and then down his pecs and abs. He looked up at Steve, but Steve didn’t flinch or move him away. Sam loved the way his brown hands looked on Steve’s pink skin, and the way Steve was staring, he was sure Steve did, too.

“Your tongue’s sticking out,” Steve said, amused. Sam grinned back. He tweaked one of Steve’s nipples and made him gasp, which was unfairly hot. Sam's mouth watered from just the way he looked so warm and turned on.

“Just concentrating. You are so gorgeous, Steve. I’ve snuck like a million looks at you but that’s nothing compared to feeling you melt under my hands.”

“‘Snuck’ is relative,” Steve said. Sam shot him a look and then licked his lips.

“Like you’re any better, Captain Stare-At-My-Ass.” Steve looked away, embarrassed, but then grabbed Sam’s ass, making Sam yelp. His hands were so strong.

“Do I get a turn to touch you?” Steve asked, blinking his baby blues like nobody’s business. Sam instantly flopped onto his stomach on the bed. Steve laughed and Sam felt his thighs settle on his butt. Steve’s fingers dug into his shoulders and Sam couldn’t stop himself from making completely obscene noises.

“Oh, that’s fucking perfect. God, Steve.” Steve laughed and Sam felt it reverberate on his back.

“I’m going to hazard a guess and say you are really loud during sex.”

Sam grinned into the pillow and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. A bit.” Steve’s fingers worked out a knot that’d been bothering him for days and Sam couldn’t help but groan. Having a super soldier boyfriend was going to come with a lot of benefits. He had thought about how good Steve’s stamina must be, but only so much since his brain usually broke after a certain point. Steve sucked on his neck and he groaned again.

“A bit?” Steve teased, pushing his fingertips into Sam’s ribs and spine. It felt fucking heavenly. Sam turned his head and burned at the realization that he’d been drooling. Steve looked so damn pleased with himself, the bastard, eyes half-lidded and mouth sporting a smug grin. Steve caught Sam’s lips in a much more enthusiastic and dirtier kiss, forcibly flipping him over onto his back again. Sam’s eyes went wide and he held onto Steve tightly. Sam tugged his hair and that made Steve roll against his hip and god he had to do that again.

Steve pulled back, arms on either side of his head, knees planted on the bed on either side of Sam’s waist, and Sam thought he could just about die.“I’m sleeping with Captain America. Steven whatever your middle name is Rogers just gave me a massage. Am I dreaming?” Steve grinned and pinched his thigh to reassure him it was real, and Sam held on helplessly to his ridiculous biceps. “Can we be naked now?”

Steve flushed, and Sam rubbed his back. “It’s ok. It’s ok if you want to wait, just. Damn. You are really good at this whole slow burn thing.” Steve shook his head and kissed Sam, and then sat up on his knees to slide his boxers down his thighs. Sam’s mouth watered as he shamelessly stared at Steve’s erect, thick, red, uncut cock. “I--god. I’ve seen you naked before but never. You know. Like this.”

“Hard and wanting you? Yeah, it’s a good look for you, too.” Steve palmed Sam’s cock through his boxers and if Sam could disintegrate on cue, that’s what he would have done. This was not real. Sam peeled off his own boxers and Steve sized him up like Sam had done, making his skin absolutely crawl in the best of ways. He’d never been so hyperaware of another person like this. Lately (as in, at least six months ago) Sam’s hookups had been fun and mostly with friends, but this was laden with purpose and romantic tension and he thought he would melt from how hot his skin was. He watched Steve reverently kiss each of his fingers with wide eyes.

Sam kissed Steve again, hard, hooking his legs behind Steve’s back and humping his smooth hip. Fuck, it felt so good. He sighed from relief and kissed Steve sloppily, getting drool on both of them. Steve pulled back with one eye closed in mock disgust and wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. Sam sat up, and then tackled Steve into the bed to chase his tongue out of his mouth and rub his ass on his cock. Steve’s hands arrested his motion, and Sam muttered a sorry. Steve rubbed his back and soothed him until Sam was calm enough to lay on Steve’s chest again.

“Sam, I. I want to watch you. Watch you touch yourself, I mean. To see what you like. Is that okay?” Sam blinked up at him, because he hadn’t expected that, and then broke into a grin and nodded. Steve scooted over to one side to let him lay back down, and heat pooled in Sam’s belly.

Sam closed his eyes, though he could still feel Steve on the bed, and took a few deep breaths to prepare himself. He touched the delicate insides of his own thighs, the familiar lines of his pelvis. He rolled his thumbs on his nipples until they were pert and he had relaxed a bit. “Can you hand me my lube?”

“Uh. Sure. Where--what does it look like?”

“It’s a white tube with purple. Says Astroglide on it. Thanks.” Sam took it from him and poured some on his hand to warm up. He kept pinching his nipples with his dry hand and then cupped his chest and squeezed. Steve did the same to the other side of his chest, which made Sam squint at him with one eye open. Steve smiled and Sam smiled in response, and Sam closed his eyes again and continued. He touched his cock with a long whine, not giving himself enough and needing to pitch his hips up into his hand. He heard Steve gasp in his ear, which made Sam bite his lip, then felt Steve’s hands steady him by touching his side and chest.

“I know you want it, Sam. It’s okay.” Steve kissed him on the cheek, which was both unbelievably sweet and ridiculous given the situation. Sam stroked his cock the way he liked, loose at the bottom, tight at the top. His eyes were still squeezed shut because looking at Steve watching him would have made him come already. Steve put his fingers against Sam’s lips and Sam sucked on them without a moment of hesitation. Steve groaned deep in his chest. Sam felt it in his mouth and against his side. He watched Steve blearily for a second and moaned when he saw how damn desperate he looked, frantic, lips red from too much licking, sweat pooling in his clavicle, eyes glassy and wide with lust.

“Shit--” Sam arched off the bed, and Steve kissed his chest and touched his thighs and stomach and nipples like Sam had when he’d been warming himself up. Everything Steve was doing was enough to make him come, but Sam wanted to wait just a little longer, so he stopped and almost cried out from how difficult it was to edge himself next to Steve. Steve tentatively wrapped his hand around Sam’s cock--warm, broad, rough... fuck--

“This okay?”

If Sam had nodded any harder he would have gotten whiplash. Steve huffed a laugh and stroked him, and fuck he learned fast--Sam was writhing in the sheets from a damn handjob and it was hard to breathe, hard to hear, hard to control how hard he was gripping Steve’s massive shoulder--

But Steve didn’t hesitate. Sam came all over Steve’s hand and his own stomach with a loud cry of Steve’s name, and it was not the first time he came shouting Steve’s name. He felt boneless, all at once, and settled back into the bed with the biggest grin.

“Holy hell," Sam said.

“Yeah.” Steve was still staring like Sam was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Should I--do you want me to return the favor?”

Steve kissed him and Sam just let him, totally giving in to Steve’s tongue in his mouth, Steve sucking on his lips. “If you can move,” Steve said, grinning and pinching Sam’s hip. Sam batted him away with an extremely floppy arm.

“I could, um. Do a little more. Use my mouth, maybe, or--you, know, whatever you think is good.” Yeah, sexy and confident. Though to be honest Steve looking lovingly at him any more was just too much. Fuck, he was in so deep. He kissed Steve’s cheek and jaw and neck and mostly curled into him. Then Sam yawned, which made Steve laugh. “Shut the entire fuck up,” Sam said.

“I want to wash up and maybe shower,” Steve said. Sam sat up, a little confused, because he needed to know if something was wrong, but also he was dizzy as all hell from how damn good everything felt.

“Suit yourself, because I’m going to be passed the fuck out when you’re done.” Steve laughed and kissed Sam before he got up. He tried to wait for Steve to come back from the shower because he bet Steve looked irresistible dripping wet and naked, but Sam promptly fell asleep.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going slow was Sam's specialty, but with someone as perfect and gorgeous as Steve, it was impossible not to get at least a little ahead of himself.
> 
> **Tags will be added as chapters are posted, and trigger warnings will be put into the chapter notes at the beginning of the chapter.

When Sam woke up, Steve was sprawled on top of him with his head in his neck. His hair was all mussed up and he smiled even when he slept. He didn't know how he slept through Steve getting in bed, but hey. He kissed Steve on the forehead and wriggled out from under him.

Damn, he was gross and sticky and hungry. He took a quick shower and made eggs in his towel. When Steve woke up, he stumbled into the kitchen, the sheet wrapped around him instead of clothes. He hugged Sam around the waist and nuzzled into his back and shoulders sleepily. Sam got them both plates and put more eggs on Steve's plate. Steve sat on the couch, still drowsy.

"Sorry I fell asleep," Sam said.

"It's fine. I think you needed a break," Steve said, and Sam wanted to protest but he was totally right.

"I can make it up to you after breakfast. Would you like that?" Steve nodded, and Sam tried to eat his eggs at a normal pace. "So, this is still good, right? Us, doing things. Each other, namely, I guess."

Steve laughed and smiled. "Yeah, Sam. Still really good. But still slow, for a little while."

Sam nodded and got himself a big glass of water. "I really like how you get possessive when you warm up." He got Steve to blush and smirked triumphantly.

"Do you still want to use your mouth? Because I think I would love that."

Sam licked his lips as he thought about that. "As big as you are, I'll need some breaks, but damn if it ain't worth it." He grinned as Steve shifted in his seat. "Eat your breakfast."

Steve complied and ate up, and Sam could literally watch splashes of red spread down to his hips. Steve must have been thinking about getting a good blowjob, and Sam could live with being the object of his affections. He finished his eggs and rinsed his plate in the sink, and Steve quickly followed suit.

The moment the plates were in the sink, Sam crowded Steve against the counter to kiss him and touch his chest and slide his hands down his sides. Steve spread his legs, which made the sheet fall to the top of his thighs. Sam pressed his hands flat against his pelvis and hip bones and massaged with his palms as he kissed Steve nice and dirty.

"I meant like. A bed," Steve said, breathless and gorgeous.

"I know." Sam winked and gave Steve's butt a squeeze. "We'll get there. Meanwhile I'm going to make you groan up to my cabinets."

Steve gulped and Sam hummed and sucked and bit his Adam's apple. He tugged Steve's nipples and Steve clutched his shoulder, moaning. Shit. "I've thought about doing so many things to you, Steve. Filthy things. I couldn't wait to get my hands on you."

"Oh." Steve's mouth made a perfect o and Sam grinned and nipped his jaw. He wrapped his arms around Steve's tiny waist to kiss his chest.

"Mostly I've thought about how you'd look all blissed out and, uh. Maybe covered in bruises. Can't say." Steve looked worried and Sam stopped to massage his back. "Too much?"

Steve hesitated and then nodded. Sam slid back to hold both of Steve's hands, which made the sheet finally give up and fall to the floor, but he was strong enough to look Steve in the eye. "I'm really sorry. I would never do anything unless you said it was okay. Definitely don't need nothing like that to be happy. Do you wanna snuggle in bed?" Steve nodded and bit his lip and grinned, which was surprisingly coy coming from a huge grown-ass man, and Sam cupped his butt as he walked to the (their?) bedroom.

Steve got comfortable, and Sam laid down on his side next to his big human furnace body. He kissed Steve's chest and face and neck in quick succession until Steve was laughing and grinning and wiggling around under him. Sam laid on him, hands folded on his chest, chin on his arms, and grinned back.

"So. Still want me to use my mouth, right?"

"Yes," Steve said. He pinked down to the tops of his thighs and god if Sam didn’t want to eat Steve alive or at be least riding his beautiful dick. Sam unfolded himself to kiss and lick Steve's neck and shoulders, dragging his wet tongue down each cord of Steve's shoulder, grinning as he started from the top of his shoulder and licked and nipped his way down Steve's bicep.

"When I said mouth, this is not what I meant--" Sam cut him off with a kiss and squeezed his sides.

"I know, sugar. I'll get to it. Just let me warm you up first."

"Plenty warmed up." Steve actually sounded a little short.

"Don't think so," Sam said. He sat up to take a break and a chug from his water bottle, since all the kissing was making his mouth dry, then went back to leaving trails of wet on Steve's chest. He winked as he started sucking on one of Steve's nipples, rolling it between his teeth. Steve looked so fucking good when he moaned helplessly; a succession of dirty images flitted in Sam's mind and he got a little distracted and forgot to be careful with his teeth. Steve grunted beneath him. "Sorry."

"No, it's. Um. I like it." Oh god, this man. Sam sucked and bit his nipple harder, making Steve gasp and arch off the bed. He sat up to pull Steve's nipples. Steve's eyes rolled back and he bit down on his lip and clutched at the sheets. Sam did the same thing again but with his teeth and that time Steve moaned. He could have sworn that Steve could have gotten off like this. He watched Steve's cock twitch against his stomach.

"Sam--" Steve saying his name like that, all desperate and horny, felt like a punch to the gut. He massaged Steve's chest and waited until he was calm to move further down his body.

Sam already knew he loved Steve. That was exhilarating and terrifying. He loved his smiles, he loved his heart of gold and devotion to always doing the right thing. Always. Sam had a huge amount of respect for Steve, and he had to at least try to show him with teeth and lips and tongue. And the best thing was Steve looking at him with all the trust in the world. Even if Sam got ahead of himself, Steve trusted him to stop. Honestly it made Sam's heart swell, and he cursed at himself for letting it get to him.

He sucked on Steve's abs and felt him squirm, which made Sam grin. He held Steve's hand as he flattened his tongue against his hips and sucked everywhere around his hard penis. He nipped the insides of Steve's meaty thighs and Steve spread them out for him. Sam looked up from between his legs and patted his knees. "Okay so far?"

Steve nodded and smiled and touched the crown of Sam's head. Sam slowly stroked Steve’s cock and kissed the tip and the sides. Steve panted above him, and Sam's heart leapt to his throat. “Need a minute?”

Steve groaned. “Sam, I said slow, not torturous.”

“If you could see yourself right now you’d be singing a different tune. Bossy. How are you so gorgeous?” Sam flicked his tongue against Steve’s cock and Steve groaned so good from just that much. Sam held the base and let his mouth close around his thick, perfect cock. His tongue teased under his foreskin and he pushed it back, then played with his frenulum. He sucked the head of his cock hard and firmly stroked the base of Steve’s cock after he was covered in saliva.

Steve gripped the back of his head but didn’t push, didn’t pull, taking it like a real gentleman. Sam couldn’t help but smile around him. He watched Steve moan and felt his cock twitch against the bed. Damn, he wondered if Steve knew how red and gorgeous he got, if he still didn’t know how much his big lungs could take in and let out. Sam blinked and then sucked dick like he meant it, cheeks hollow, moving his hand in sync with his mouth. Steve clutched the bed and Sam could see his the muscles and veins bulge in his arms when he bobbed his head just right.

Sam wanted to deepthroat him and he tried, but he gagged. Steve was above him insisting that he didn’t have to, voice cracking pitifully, but Sam was doing it for himself, dammit, not for Steve. He jerked the base and took a break for a second, and then did the same thing, this time feeling the delicious swell of his throat as it filled with Steve’s cock. Steve writhed, choked above him, which would have been its own reward if his heavy, slick cock pulsing in his throat wasn’t reward enough.

Steve was shouting and cursing above him and Sam didn’t even know he could sound like that, broken and angry and overwhelmed. He wanted to make him sound like that many, many more times. Steve was hard to see with his eyes teary but Sam could feel his muscles twitching under his hands and that was enough. His jaw and mouth were getting sore, but fortunately Steve was so tense that he knew he couldn’t last. Sam had done this enough.

Steve shouted his name and came and came down his throat and the force made him shiver from head to toe. He pulled back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then leaned in to kiss Steve hard. Steve welcomed it, bad taste or not. Of course he would. He wasn’t like any man Sam had ever known. Literally one of a kind, he mused to himself, and he rubbed his head into Steve’s hands with a smile before kissing him again.

"Thanks," Steve said, still breathy and coming down.

Sam snorted. "First of all, don’t thank me for sex. Besides, I've dreamed about doing that to you." Steve grinned and blushed and Sam snuggled right up to him.

"I don't deserve you," Steve said after a few moments.

"You're absolutely right, I'm way too good for your sorry ass. You could only be, like, canonized."

Steve snorted and Sam filled with satisfaction for making him happy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like a bad penny.
> 
> **Tags will be added as chapters are posted, and trigger warnings will be put into the chapter notes at the beginning of the chapter.
> 
> In this chapter: trigger warning for descriptions of abuse, PTSD, unreality, and death. I think that's it but if I missed anything PLEASE leave a comment so I can add warnings for the next readers. Thanks for reading! <3

They found Bucky completely out of the blue, of course. Sam and Steve had been working on it for months, and as soon as they paused to restrategize, he showed up, just like anything else you lose and want to find.

It happened like this.

Sam leaned against Steve’s chest and they held hands, and they’d just eaten at that Italian place with the huge portions. It was quiet, early November, and today was the day Sam had broken down and put towels under the front door to keep out the cold. The news was on in the background, a low hum, and two hot chocolates steamed on the coffee table. Sam had just asked Steve if he’d wanted to go to bed as he suggestively kissed Steve’s neck.

But Steve wasn’t paying the least bit of attention. His eyes, unlike before, were fixed on the screen. If Sam couldn’t get his attention with neck kisses something was seriously wrong. Steve just looked at him and then pointed at the screen. The reporter was standing in front of Washington Monument, her face denoting some somber tone. Probably something for Veteran’s Day. Sam looked back at Steve with confusion.

“Don’t you see him?” Steve demanded, his voice sounding tight. “Right there.”

“What?”

Steve still pointed, and Sam caught the gleam of metal as The Winter Soldier put his hand in the pocket of his navy hoodie. Sam was lucky he didn’t get thrown to the floor as Steve bolted out and hopped on his motorcycle. Fuck, didn’t he know it was dangerous to be on TV by now? Sam rounded up his suit gear, sighing and shaking his head as he flew to the monument.

Somehow nobody saw them, either on TV or just out in a public place. Bucky didn’t have a place to stay, of course, so Sam offered him his guest room. Steve couldn’t have been happier. It took a lot of baby steps to get to a place that was good for Bucky. At first he acted feral, and Sam and Steve were prepared for a fight, but he didn’t do more than threaten them out of his space. He spooked very easily. Sam worked almost exclusively with groups at the VA and had little experience actually coaxing someone out of something like this, but he knew that leaving Bucky alone was important. He left Bucky some books, mostly fantasy stuff (because that’s what Sam liked), and sometimes Sam saw or heard him leafing through them.

And if Sam was treading on eggshells around Bucky, Steve certainly was. He was almost scared to walk into the living room while Bucky was awake, just in case he triggered something. Mostly, though, Bucky kept to himself in the guest bedroom. Sam had bought him a cheap desktop computer, and showed him how to use it, perhaps incidentally bookmarking PTSD sites and forums. Sometimes Bucky would peek out for food, and sometimes he would stare at Sam and Steve like he couldn’t believe they were real.

Steve had been in contact with SHIELD before about the brainwashing, so he knew a little about what Bucky knew. Steve and Sam also knew Bucky would get better and better the longer he was away from HYDRA, the longer he was off the ice (a phrase that made Steve in particular wince.) Sam eventually convinced Steve that it was good for Bucky to see him; he had triggered his memory in the first place, and he would be the only thing still directly connected to Bucky the way he was.

Two weeks passed before Bucky felt comfortable enough to eat at the table with them instead of taking the food back to his room. He didn’t say anything, but when he looked at Steve he would smile. Sam definitely counted that as a good sign.

“Thanks for helping me out,” Bucky said one day, not long after his first meal with them both. Sam only smiled at him. He’d been careful not to touch him, even with good intentions, but he felt like holding Bucky’s shoulder.

“I’m glad we could.” Sam smiled warmly, doing his best to encourage Bucky.

Bucky didn’t seem too awkward about it. “You and Steve seem happy together. I hope I’m not--I don’t want to intrude.”

“There’s another bedroom. Steve would rather have you here, and hell, so would I. It’s fine, Bucky.”

Bucky nodded; solemn, quiet, but half-smiling.

\--

Steve told Bucky about the 21st century, about the new things he could enjoy, about the Avengers, about what happened to SHIELD, about his life now. Bucky didn't talk much, but he did ask Steve if some of the things he remembered about them or about himself were true. Steve would nod or shake his head each time without skipping a beat, reassuring and speaking to Bucky in a way it took professionals years to understand. Sometimes Bucky would hold Steve's hand, sometimes for long, silent minutes, and Steve would let him. Sometimes Bucky would remember something good and Steve would laugh with him about it and Sam understood the power of it without needing to ask.

One morning, Sam laid on Steve's chest after a good bit of kissing and massaging. "Did you love him?" Sam asked. It had percolated to his tongue after weeks of wondering.

Steve looked off for a second and nodded. "I did. But I also love you, so much. It's not as if him being here changed that." Steve picked up his fingers and kissed them.

Sam shook his head (though he didn’t pull away because Steve’s mouth was nice). "It's okay if you still love him. I wasn’t looking to compare or whatever, I wanted to get a grasp on the situation. I can't wrap my head around what this must be like for you, exactly, but it's okay. He needs that, I think."

"I don't love him out of pity, Sam."

"That's not what I meant. I mean it's good for him to have someone on his side. And I think a lot of people would want you on their side."

Steve nodded and pet Sam's back, and they kissed some more and let the subject fade.

When they finally got out of bed, Bucky was in the throes of a fight with a frying pan. There was quite a lot of clanking and cursing. "Is he always like this?" Sam asked. Smoke curled to the ceiling from where the eggs had burnt to a crisp.

"'Fraid so." Steve was grinning.

\--

Sam sighed and laid down on his back on the roof. There wasn’t much stargazing in the middle of DC, but it was better to ruminate on the roof than cramped in with Steve wondering what was wrong.

Riley’s death was different than Bucky's fall. There wasn’t snow in the desert, and Sam watched Riley go six feet under, had stood at his grave and wept. Had handed a flag to his wife, like somehow that was closure. It was though, in a way. Sam didn’t want to be jealous - that Steve and Bucky had each other while Sam and Riley didn't - but he was. Steve deserved to have Bucky back, and Bucky deserved to be treated as more than a weapon, to be human and loved and with the man that meant the most to him. It just sucked, that Bucky was here and all he could think about was his own dead best friend. Most of all he felt conflicted because the jealousy kept him from being supportive of Steve and Bucky, and was a big self pity party when he was housing an abused man who was relearning what it means to be a person.

As if to drive his guilt home, Bucky joined him on the roof. Sam hadn’t heard him climb up, and didn’t know how long he’d been there since Sam had been laying down with his eyes closed. Bucky looked pensive, but what else was new. He didn't pay too much attention to Sam anyway. It was kind of nice, just having someone who was there without feeling like he had to say anything.

Bucky pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He offered the pack to Sam and, after Sam refused, lit one himself. They smoked a lot in the 40’s, right? It must have felt normal, or whatever normal felt like to him. Sam watched as he took a long drag and the subsequent wreath of smoke rise around his head.

"You're a shrink, right? That's what Steve said.” Bucky paused, and took a look around. He curled up around his knees. “Do you think I'll ever be back to normal?"

Sam looked at Bucky. He didn't look like he was filled with false hope, though that was usually something Sam could work with. "No. I think you'll have to constantly adjust. I think some days will be better than others."

Bucky nodded. He didn't seem disappointed. Bucky’s fatalistic thing made sense in his position. But sometimes the ease with which Bucky accepted hard truths creeped Sam out a little.

Sam faked a chill, even though he was in Steve’s oversized jacket. "Getting cold. Want some coffee?"

Bucky ground the butt of his cigarette on the roof as soon as Sam asked.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has arrived, and title drop!

A few months after the arrival of Bucky, Sam came into the living room to see Natasha. She filed her nails as she sat on his couch and Bucky ate corn flakes. Sam threw his hands up, and Bucky blinked innocently.

"She let herself in," Bucky said.

"I can see that. Am I suddenly a halfway house for the wayward super spy?"

Natasha handed him a hefty check from SHIELD (Sam didn't even know it was operational again.) He hadn't seen a real life check in months.

"Welcome. Help yourself. Though I guess you already did. And where will you be sleeping? I don’t have a basement."

She shrugged.

"Well, there's always the couch."

Bucky looked up and said, "She’ll take the guest bedroom." Sam wasn't really one to argue with Bucky about, well, anything. So Sam nodded. Natasha and Bucky looked at each other and Sam instantly felt like they were much more similar animals than he and Bucky or even Steve and Bucky.

“Is it too late to congratulate the happy couple?” Nat asked. Sam grinned and felt his face get warm. He didn’t know how she knew but he wasn’t about to question it.

"They’re so gross. I can hear them laughing and kissing like every morning." Sam glared at Bucky. Bucky smiled toothily. "Not to mention the sex. I bought earplugs; do you want a pair? They came in a pack."

Natasha laughed and shook her head.

Sam did not understand what about Natasha had instantly invoked Bucky to speak so freely. Part of him was irritated and part of him was unbearably relieved.

"Can I ask why you're here?"

"I have a new mission from SHIELD," Natasha said. She looked straight at Bucky. 

This whole spy vs spy thing, Sam didn't follow it very well. But if Natasha could offer Bucky the right kind of emotional support, well, Sam was all for it. And Bucky seemed to accept that he'd be on a short leash, even though he was starting to understand the things he had done, the ones he could remember, were not his fault. Having Natasha, someone who Sam understood to carry a lot of the same guilt, would be better than him and Steve just taking a shot in the dark.

Once Steve was back from his run and saw Natasha and grinned wide, Sam knew he couldn't simply offer to help her find a place nearby. They all had to be together. But his place was just too damn small. Like, they had to know that. It was barely enough for Steve and Sam, but they basically lived on top of each other in every aspect. Sam wasn’t exactly well off, but they could manage something, the four of them, with this mystery money. Maybe a duplex. Sam could easily picture Natasha and Bucky sharing a space.

\--

Sam was reluctant to leave. He loved his landlady so much, and this was his little starter home he'd kept up all on his own. But he guessed his family was growing. He and Steve weren't dads but he damn sure felt like he was babysitting.

Steve and Sam went to search for places on their own. Though they'd been living together for almost a year, it still felt like a Big Step. Especially with real estate agents talking about how accepting nearby residents are of "alternative lifestyles" and all the hidden little grins they'd get with Steve and his endless displays of affection. It felt like they were married. It wasn't like that, he didn't think, but being next to Steve, having Steve ask about garages and pools and kitchens next to him, hand around his waist and settling on his hip--it was certainly an experience. He decided he loved the experience.

They settled on a split level that had two master suites, one on each floor, and a finished basement. The separate floors also had their own kitchens and bathrooms, obviously made for two sets of renters. It was perfect. Thankfully price wasn't really a consideration--Natasha had reassured them of that. SHIELD gave them enough money to find a place far enough away to keep the neighbors safe and happy and close enough to commute if Sam went back to work. Though with mechanical wings, Sam supposed, skipping traffic was always an option.

Sam didn't have to do any heavy lifting during the move whatsoever. As soon as the moving started, Natasha mysteriously went out of town. Sam wasn't sure if she was copping out or if she really had to mysteriously leave. Sam guessed it could have been both. Bucky moved into the basement with his sparse belongings and they moved Natasha's stuff into the second floor master suite as planned.

Once they were all moved in, Steve carried Sam over the barrier of their bedroom like a groom would. Still not married. Steve tossed him on the bed like a sack of rice and Sam bounced and fell off the other side with a thump. Sam got up on his knees in just enough time to watch Steve smack his hand against his mouth.

"I am so sorry, oh my god--"

Sam rolled on the floor in laughter for a while as Steve worriedly hovered over him. He got back in the bed and Steve coddled him and kissed him all over.

"This is a good apology. You are allowed to totally baby me." Sam grinned and collapsed into their new and awesome mattress. Sam lifted up his arms as Steve peeled off his shirt and rubbed down his front.

"Do you like our new house, Sam?" It wasn't theirs per se. Sam didn't care, though.

"I like having room to breathe." He rubbed his fingers through Steve's hair and kissed him warmly, case in point. "And I like that both our names are on the lease." He smiled, and Steve picked up his fingers to rub them against the smooth side of his face. They stopped talking for the night.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is short (like the others aren't or something?) buttt hey it's cute so (i didn't realize this one was next up on the List of Finished Chapters so maybe i'll post the next chapter sooner rather than later) ((also i was out last week at home! sorry about that!))


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha redefines home.
> 
> **Tags will be added as chapters are posted, and trigger warnings will be put into the chapter notes at the beginning of the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for BDSM dynamics and I think that's it? But if something in this chapter is triggering/uncomfortable/potentially triggering please let me know and I'll update asap.

For the housewarming, Natasha decided to bring home 3 pizzas, one for Steve, one for her and Sam and Bucky to split, and one to save in the fridge since she already knew none of them had bought groceries. Clearing out and ensuring there were no traces of her former living spaces had been a pain, but not as much of a pain as finding other hideouts in a relatively new area. Steve and Sam had moved into a place faster than she'd had a chance to scope out fully, which set her on edge.

When she slid inside, all three grown men were staring at her like the idea of buying their own food had not occurred to them. She could only smile and shake her head. Sam and Steve were too polite to swarm. Bucky double fisted pizza slices even though he didn’t have a plate and steam still rose off the cheese. She noticed the couch, tv, and Wii were unpacked and set up, but none of the plates or cups were yet in the cabinet. There were paper plates next to the sink, though. 

Right from the start, Bucky made eyes at her, and she glanced evenly back. She pulled out her phone because nothing was better than covert conversation in plain sight. Ah, the social sanctity of cell phones. She texted Steve.

_Bucky seems to have come out of his shell._

_Yeah, hes been doing better. Sam got him to go to the VA with him._

_That's good. Do I need to pretend I'm not interested?_ She nodded towards Bucky, who was practically leaning on his hands towards her.

Steve shrugged at her. Sam raised an eyebrow at them both, and Nat put her phone away. She'd let Bucky make the first move, if it came to that. Sam and Steve had something that worked, and she had an instinct she could make something work with Bucky, but she wasn't going to act on it until SHIELD told her not to keep an eye on him. She also didn't know why she asked Steve's permission, and she didn't like not understanding her own intentions.

After dinner, she put the extra pizza in the fridge and opened the first box of dishes. The three of them helped her wash them and dry them and put them away without her prompting, which made her more confident about the whole arrangement. The coffee maker was set up already. Small blessings. "Which one is my room?" she asked.

"It's upstairs. Has its own bathroom, kitchen, and living space, like it was made for a renter." Sam was so proud. It was cute. She hadn't meant for him to be kicked out of his own home, and she felt a bit strange. She was also paying the mortgage, so she could only feel so strange. She didn't even cook, really, but she was grateful that Sam and Steve had given her her own space. She excused herself to go look.

Unlike the rest of the house, her upstairs apartment was completely unpacked and finished. Cheap but functional black and white pictures of different cities around the world were hung on the wall, and red flowers were set at different heights on shelves and tables. She would probably fix that and get some different colors because she wasn't a walking cliche, but she appreciated the touch of drama and the old college try. The furniture they'd gotten her was a bit mismatched, with some overlay of modern with the sleek tables and a touch of antique with a big, classic, carved headboard, but it worked well enough. Her bed was made, her bookshelf had her books on it, and everything looked like it had been dusted and cleaned. Her sheets had even been washed, because when she laid down on her bed she smelled lavender. This must have taken forever, which was probably why everything else in the house was still in boxes. The only thing left unpacked was the black duffel bag she said not to touch, which was really just sex toys, her very few personal mementos, and her laptop.

She pulled out her phone again to text Steve.

_Thank you._

_Welcome home!_

And she guessed that was all she could call it.

\--

Even though Natasha had her own floor, she preferred to cruise around on the main floor. Besides, Bucky was in the basement, which meant there were two floors between them if she stayed upstairs. It didn't matter that every time she saw him he was either discovering a new video game or half-hanging off the couch with earphones in. He also seemed to gravitate towards the main floor, though Natasha suspected he was doing it to make everyone else stop worrying about him holing himself in the basement. He didn't stare at her as overtly as he did during the first dinner, but he would still catch her eye and grin.

With Sam back at work at the VA, Steve had taken up doing the housework, especially cooking. It amused Nat endlessly to see him walk around the house in a Kiss the Cook apron Sam had no doubt bought him. Captain America, master chef. Usually he just put something in a slow cooker, which made it even more amusing that he felt it necessary to put the apron on in the first place.

When Sam got home, she teased him about being basically 50s married to Steve. Seriously, she was expecting pearls and gingham any time now. Sam didn't quite get it. He argued that it wasn't like that! Steve wasn't a housemaid! They split work fairly evenly! Steve lifted heavy stuff because Sam didn't have the spine of the gods, but besides that!

"It's not a physical labor thing," Nat insisted. Sam raised an eyebrow and put his hands on his hips. "Sam, he waits for you at the door. With dinner. Most of the time he's wearing an apron." Natasha jabbed Sam playfully with her elbow. "If I didn't know any better I'd say that you slept in separate beds like Leave It To Beaver."

"Oh come, Natasha, on, we're not that bad."

She pursed her lips and gave him a dramatic take-no-shit stare. "I heard you call him cupcake," she joked.

Sam got flustered and looked down and away from her. "I whispered that."

She smirked and leaned on her palm, elbow propped up on the counter. "That was a bluff. But damn."

"... Dammit."

\--

She liked keeping the house nice for them. When Bucky went to work with Sam to go to therapy, she went out to buy things for the house. She got a lot of things they didn't need, like a paper towel holder and a lucky bamboo, and a few they did, like plastic cups that didn't have teeth marks and rugs. 

She got Bucky to help her rearrange the furniture, which was less for her benefit and more for his -- she knew even little changes set him on edge, but this way he’d have some control. She made sure the couch, which he liked best, was situated such that he could see the top of his stairs to the basement, the front door, and the entrance to the hallway. She moved the bookcase against the wall so the room wasn't at all divided. The floor plan was open, with no wall between the kitchen and living room, so she knew Sam and Steve had taken the layout into consideration as well. It took a village.

He didn't thank her, but he didn't need to. With all her little changes, she could tell he was more at ease being able to see everything. She remembered picking the furthest booth from the door, the last seat on planes, and most of the time she still did. Being stuck in the middle of lines still made teeth grind. She didn't believe SHIELD would have told her to watch Bucky if it had posed no benefit to her, and while she was no Sam she could help him navigate his new life in different ways.

"You know how I could get a date around here?" Bucky asked. He was washing dishes. His metal hand was quite effective at getting out the tougher stains the dishwasher couldn’t handle. 

She shrugged. "Beats me. All the perfectly fine people I picked out for Steve apparently weren't good enough for him."

"Can you blame him?" he said, nodding towards Sam and Steve holding hands on the couch. She smirked and shook her head. "I don't think it'll be that easy for me."

"You and Steve don't have the same reputation," she agreed, "but that could work in your favor. He’s too squeaky clean for some people.”

“And I’m filthy and rotten,” he said, and his smile was more smug and genuine than she’d seen it yet.

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m still not sure how to play matchmaker for you. Other preferences?”

“Ah, you know. Pretty. Gender’s not really an issue. Red hair. Smart mouth. Could kill me six ways barehanded. You know, the usual.”

“I’ll tell you who shows up on eHarmony.”

He laughed and stopped doing dishes to look at her. “I’m sorry. I know it’s weird to have a housemate hit on you.” He went quiet, and she measured him up.

“I’m giving SHIELD a final report on your wellbeing,”  and threat level , she thought to herself, “and since you’re regularly attending therapy sessions and stay in the house with me, they’ll give me something else to do. We can revisit this then.”

He beamed at her and nodded.

\--

“Revisiting” turned into making out pretty damn fast. All it really took was for Bucky to say he was fine with not having a romantic relationship. She had guessed he was submissive just from the way he broke eye contact, but she wasn’t going to press without consent first. It helped that he took the initiative and got on his knees at just the barest press on his shoulders. He looked up at her blinking his pretty blue eyes, almost clouded with his dilated pupils.

“Do you like being submissive?” she asked. She pushed back some of his hair and smiled down her nose.

He grinned sheepishly and nodded, nosing into her thigh like he was trying to hide. Well, she could work with that.

“You have to promise to communicate with me. Do you have any hard limits I should know first?”

“No electrical play. No gags. Uh, no brainwashing?” he added, equal parts coy and self-degrading. She rolled her eyes.

“Does yellow for pause and red for stop work for you?” she asked, still petting his hair but tugging it here and there. She didn’t use a lot of force, but Bucky groaned anyway.

“Yes, that works.”

“‘Yes, that works’,  what ?”

“Yes, that works, ma’am.” She hummed and gave him a quick kiss for being a fast learner.

“Up on the bed, then,” she said. He obeyed quickly, and she smirked watching him scramble off his knees for her. “I’m not comfortable doing anything complicated or lasting until we discuss boundaries further, but I really, really want to sleep with you.” Bucky grinned and blushed and started to pull up at his own shirt. She stilled his hands.

“Did I ask you to do that?” she asked.

He put his hands down by his sides. “No, ma’am.”

“Good boy. Now take off your shirt.” She grinned, and he stuck his tongue out briefly as he took his shirt off. She considered catching his tongue and pulling it for being a brat, but she let it slide. Besides, she was preoccupied with touching his abs and chest and collarbones. He made a lot of airy grunts of frustration. She took off her own shirt and appreciated the way Bucky watched and stared.

“Take off my bra.” He sat up, and she pushed him back down to the bed. She hovered over him, body to body, feeling the quick beating of his heart against her chest, and kissed him. Then she pulled his hands up to the clasp of her bra, and he grinned and quickly undid it. It slid off her shoulders onto his chest, and he didn’t move it himself. He was doing much better. She put it behind her and watched Bucky roil in silent torment, staring at her chest and chewing his lip as she sat up. “Do you want my breast in your mouth?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

She lightly raked her nails down his chest, humming at how he shivered beneath her and caught his breath. “Touch them first.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, and she felt her pussy get warmer from his obvious gratitude for the pleasure of touching her. He explored carefully, just cupping and gently squeezing her breasts, and then he rubbed his rough, fleshy thumb and smooth, metal thumb over her nipples until they were both pert. The contrasting textures piqued her interest and gave her lots of ideas for later, but for now she enjoyed him worshipping her breasts with his hands.

She leaned over him, teasing her nipple on his lips. He didn’t move. His shaky, anticipatory breathing made her skin hot and she kept him waiting a while longer. “Suck,” she said the moment his lip started to quiver. He moaned and sucked hard on her nipple. She felt his dick twitch against her thigh and the combination was enough to make her gasp, and she gasped louder when his metal left fingers pinched her nipple.

She sat in his lap and ground down as he switched to her other nipple. She watched his eyes roll back as her hips came down, and she pulled his head up to kiss him hard. She bit his bottom lip as she rocked against him.

"Fuck," Bucky said under his breath, and she smirked and kissed him again.

"Doing alright?" she asked, not stopping the rotation of her hips at all.

He smiled ear to ear and rubbed stroked her sides with his thumbs. "Fuck yeah."

"Good. Undress."

His eyes flashed and he saluted before he said "yes, ma'am" and she got off of him to let him wriggle out of his pants and boxers. His cock was dark red, and it twitched against his stomach as she looked him over. She stood by her bed and got out of her own pants and black lace underwear before climbing back up. She put her thighs around his face and looked down.

"Tap my leg three times in a row if you need to stop," she said, and she put her pussy on his lips. He swallowed, and she felt the movement of his throat against her cunt, but he waited patiently for her command. "Lap up and down my pussy."

He held her hips and lightly teased his tongue up her, starting at her entrance, stopping right before he got to her clit and restarting. She hummed and rode his face, but he kept teasing within the boundaries so much that she got frustrated. Her mouth fell open as Bucky flicked his tongue faster, stopping at the hood of her clit and not giving her what she wanted. She gripped his hair hard and kept him in place when he reached the hood of her clit again. “Suck.”

Instead of teasing, he instantly sealed his lips around her and sucked her clit as hard as he could, working his tongue over it without stopping. She slammed her hips down on his face until she came with a violent shake and a high whine. He stopped for a moment, but she only yanked his hair until he kept going. She lost herself in it. His mouth was relentless, too, and he looked up at her as he dragged his teeth over her oversensitive flesh. She cursed and came again, using her legs to keep his face in place. Only after she’d ridden his face through every aftershock did she pull back.

Both of them panted, and Nat leaned in to kiss and suck her own taste off of Bucky’s lips and chin and neck. He grinned from all the attention. She smiled, too, and got a condom out of her nightstand. She rolled it down on Bucky’s cock and he groaned from that little. He turned into her to presumably be on top, but she pushed him back down to the bed.

“Let me,” she said, and she held the base of his cock as she slid down on him. He put his hands on the sheets even though she knew he was itching to touch her. “You can touch me. You’ve more than earned it.”

He grinned and squeezed her breasts just as she began to bounce on his cock. Her hair tickled her shoulders as her head rocked back. He started to thrust, and she sat up until he couldn’t. “Stay still.” He nodded and she started riding him again, touching and squeezing his hard abs as she did. “Don’t come until I say.”

He whined but nodded, but after a point he couldn’t stay completely still. His face down to his belly button was dark red from need. “Breathe,” she reminded, and he took in a deep, shuddering breath. He didn’t pull down on her hips but he rolled to meet her to fuck her as deep as possible when she sat all the way down on his cock. She cursed again.

“Touch my clit,” she said, purposefully not specifying which hand, and she jolted when his metal thumb rubbed circles at superhuman speed. Even better than his tongue, she thought, and he crumpled under her as her muscles tightened hard coming again. “Need to come?”

He nodded and groaned miserably, rolling around on the bed like he was in pain. She reached down and squeezed his balls and he surged off the bed. She milked him for one more orgasm, writhing and thrashing on his dick, and she shouted “Come!” as her pussy clenched hard around him. He wildly pumped his hips and came with a sharp shout, and then completely melted into the bed. She pecked him on the lips and slid herself and the condom off of him. She let him bask as she cleaned up.

“That was worth the wait, ma’am,” he said, a half-dazed smile on his face as he blinked his unfocused eyes.

“It was,” she agreed, and she pet his hair until he fell asleep. Then she got out her laptop to email him some links to BDSM information for next time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam was not interested, nope, definitely not.
> 
> **Tags will be added as chapters are posted, and trigger warnings will be put into the chapter notes at the beginning of the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for D/s type stuff and rough sex.

Bucky dropped in, his look tight leather pants, combat boots, mesh tank top, leather jacket. The metal arm only made him look more like an edgy punk instead of sticking out. Eyeliner? Eyeliner. Sam took militaristic inventory. Though, he missed the tight leather choker around his neck until Bucky turned down the collar to his jacket. Jesus. Sam, to his dismay, found that his pants were getting tight.

But it wasn't just a choker. It was a leather collar, with a buckle and everything. And a tag. Sam couldn't read the tag since he wasn't up close, but he could tell something short was etched on it.

"What, got something in my teeth?" Bucky flashed him a wide grin, joining Sam on the couch and swinging his legs to prop them up on the coffee table. Sam didn't tell him not to, though he considered it.

Instead Sam stared at the floor. "Sorry, it's just. A lot. Did Natasha take you shopping?"

"No. Took Steve's bike and shopped myself, though she did instruct me to buy this." The collar was so tight that Bucky could hardly fit a finger under it. Sam thought about him swallowing against it and promptly stared at the floor again, ears and neck burning.

When he finally got the courage and/or tenacity to look at Bucky again, he found that a) Bucky was already looking at him and b) he was close enough now to read the tag. It said SLUT, just like that, in the center of the tag. "Oh."

"What?" Bucky was grinning sideways, the way Sam imagined Steve fell in love with.

Sam struggled for something to say, and knew he couldn't just say "nothing" and leave it at that since Bucky was so damn perceptive and had been watching him look at it anyway. "Slut? Really?"

"Yep." Bucky only grinned wider in response.

"Did Nat tell you to put that on it, too?" Sam asked.

Bucky winked at Sam. "Nope." He flipped the TV on and started watching.

\--

The next morning, Sam woke up with Steve and made him coffee. "So, me and Bucky watched TV last night," he said.

"I saw. How was the show--"

"Did you see what he was wearing?"

"Oh, well, you saw me, I was exhausted. Just headed straight to bed," Steve said.

Steve was as good at hiding guilt as a big dog. He actually coughed behind his fist and ducked his head.

"Oh my God, Steve, you can tell me you looked. We are at that point," Sam said. Sam certainly had.

"You could see his nipples," Steve said helplessly, hands out, like that explained everything.

"Yeah. And I thought he was going out, but he watched TV with me for a couple hours before Nat came home," Sam said as he waved around empty mugs. "Anyway, that's not what I'm worried about. Steve... I think he was hitting on me."

Steve looked serious for a good five seconds before he busted out laughing. "Sam, the Bucky Barnes I knew flirted with air. I wouldn't be surprised."

Sam put a full mug of coffee in front of Steve and then sat down with him. "I don't think you understand. Like, there's being flirtatious, and then there's Bucky with his sex magic and--"

"Sam, sweetheart." Steve held Sam's hand. "That's how he is, or was. I am well aware of his demeanor," he said.

"But that makes him sound like a troublesome cat or something. No, he--he was wearing a collar. And do you know what the collar said?"

"What?" Steve's lips were curved into a hint of a grin, and Sam half wanted to laugh and half wanted him to take him seriously.

"Slut, in big letters," Sam said.

Sam watched Steve, again, try to hold it in but start laughing uncontrollably. He finally stopped, and Sam was glaring at him with his arms crossed over his chest. "Sorry, it's just--guess that hasn't changed since 1940."

"What, he had a collar that said slut?" Sam asked.

"No, good lord. He definitely had... A reputation." Steve was grinning and blushing by this point. "I mean, he could get girls by walking out the door." Steve paused and looked at Sam. "And, from all the times we slept together, it sounds like him to wear something like that for Natasha."

Sam's cup fell to the counter with a clunk. "Wait, what. I know you’re bi, but. You had sex? Like multiple sex?" Pull it together, Sam Wilson. "I mean," Sam started, trying to cover his tracks, "I thought it was like, you pined for him, he pined for you, the 40s sucked and you never got together."

Steve shook his head.

"But you had sex. Kinky sex."

"Kinky sex," Steve echoed like an apology. "Are you upset?"

"No! No, of course not. That's not--I was just surprised." Sam swallowed hot coffee so maybe he'd quit saying stupid things. "... He's really hot." Didn't work.

"Sam," Steve said, almost chastising him.

"What? It doesn't help knowing you got a piece of that. On the regular, apparently."

"Yeah, when I wasn't hacking up a lung as a tiny disabled kid or fighting a war as a glorified weapon." Steve pinched Sam's thigh, which instantly made heat pooled in Sam's gut. "It was more of a comfort thing."

"What in the hell comforts Bucky Barnes?"

"Do you want me to answer that?"

"Fuck." Sam drained his cup of coffee and bounced his leg. He checked the clock. Still a couple hours left before he had to leave for work. “How do you feel like reliving the good old days, Cap?”

Steve laughed and hopped to his feet after Sam stopped talking. Sam grabbed him by his too-tight white shirt and kissed him hard while he pulled him back to their master bathroom.

\--

When Steve wanted, he could be mean as hell. Right now Sam's chest was pressed against the tile floor, and Steve held both of his arms folded behind his back. Then he spat right into Sam's hole, and Sam felt it twitch in reaction. The sensation lingered, and Sam waited for more that wasn't coming. He looked over his shoulder. "What, Rogers, am I too pretty to fuck?"

Steve flushed, then set his jaw in that dominant way that drove Sam wild. Steve pressed a finger into him without hesitation. Sam scratched at Steve's arm. God he fucking loved it when Steve trusted him to take it, trusted him to say stop if something was wrong. He wanted to reach back and spread out his cheeks for Steve to see how stretched he was but Steve had him very pinned. Sam's breath fogged up the tile floor, the shower long since over.

"Move," Sam growled, and Steve responded by moving his finger the barest amount, making Sam buck under him and pant and groan. It was there in him, Steve's ungodly thick and long finger, but it wasn't doing anything but making Sam need more. Sam wanted so badly for Steve to make his prostate sore, was ready to beg, when Steve crooked his finger once, then set a wickedly fast rhythm that had Sam seeing stars.

"F-fuck--Steeeeve, yes god--" Steve spat on his hole again, and Sam felt even dirtier for enjoying it. After spitting on him, Steve poured lube around his finger and added another, and Sam trembled from the sudden stretch. Steve let his arms free, probably to get a better angle, and Sam spread his fingers on the tile floor, happy for the purchase. But he didn't get to touch the floor for long. Steve pulled him up with an arm around Sam’s neck and Sam made lots of noise just to feel how tight his grip was.

"You know how to tap out," Steve said. It wasn't a question. Sam nodded anyway. "Good." Steve held him up by the throat and started fucking him hard and fast with his fingers, making Sam shake and claw and clutch at Steve's immovable arm. Steve laughed in his ear and Sam felt heat shoot down his spine. Steve let Sam have a breath, but at the same time pushed in a third thick finger.

When Steve had him all stretched out and pulled out his fingers, Sam shoved his ass back for his cock. Steve smacked his now-empty ass hard enough to make Sam keen and whine, either for Steve to fuck him or for more spanks. He looked over his shoulder because he knew he must have looked like a wreck, sniveling for sex and trapped by Steve's body. Steve bit his ear and actually growled, a deep sound that crawled out of his belly. Sam felt a fresh wave of desire. Submission was never something Sam did before, but Steve was the right kind of dominant. He whined, and Steve shut him up by choking him again.

"Stop talking and I'll think about fucking you." He let go and Sam breathed and massaged his own neck, mostly for show. Steve was very good at using the right amount of his strength. Sam went quiet. Steve smacked his cock on Sam's ass and groaned above him. "Your hole is so tight, Sam. Even after getting fucked so much. Do you do exercises for me?" Steve was so damn smug. Sam nodded, and Steve gave him an inch of his perfect thick cock as a reward. "Tell me how much you love my cock."

“But you told me not to talk,” Sam teased. “Make up your mind.” Steve didn’t move, and smacked Sam’s ass again, harder this time. If that’s what he was going to get for goading Steve then he didn’t feel compelled to stop. “Your cock is so fucking thick--it fills me up like nothing else can and I want it all the time.”

“You’re so good for me,” Steve said. Sam moaned in a long, continuous stream as Steve pushed the rest of the way in, and started giving him shallow, unfulfilling thrusts. Sam looked back and Steve smirked. Sam swerved his ass on Steve’s dick, making him grunt in surprise, and Sam considered it a victory. That is, until Steve gathered him up in his arms and slammed him against the wall.

He fucked Sam hard, not caring that Sam’s cock was trapped between his own body and the wall, and Sam couldn’t stop shouting and cursing and lashing out. Steve was too strong to care. Steve’s cock was so thick that it touched his prostate with every damn thrust and Sam couldn’t keep it together any more. He came without being touched, all over the shower wall, nails deep in Steve’s arms as he scrambled for something better to keep himself up than air. Steve bit down on his ear hard enough to burn and growled and god, god that was so hot. He was fucking Sam like an animal, all hips, no control, using his body to get off. Steve came and came in his ass, still thrusting, still trapping him in with his arms and only letting Sam come down when Steve was completely finished.

Sam took a knee and just breathed for a while, and Steve kissed all over his face and neck and shoulders until Sam was grinning and laughing and hugging him. Steve hugged him back.

“If that’s what I get for mentioning Bucky, I’m screaming his name instead of yours next time,” Sam teased.

“Don’t you dare.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fancy dinner was completely unnecessary and absolutely delicious.
> 
> **Tags will be added as chapters are posted, and trigger warnings will be put into the chapter notes at the beginning of the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there are new trigger warnings for this chapter--Bucky still has past trauma and PTSD.

They heard a knock on the bathroom door and said, "Just a sec!" in unison before giggling amongst themselves. Steve put Sam in front of the mirror, stood behind him, and circled his arms around him. Buttoning buttons shouldn't have been intimate but it was, and Steve kissed Sam's neck before he finished the top button of his shirt. Sam put on his slacks himself because whenever  Steve  tucked in the tails of his shirt by sticking his hands in Sam's pants almost inevitably turned into round 2.

Sam put a tight t-shirt and sweatpants on Steve. "What, no underwear?"

"Easy access," Sam replied, cupping the front of Steve's pants with a wink.

"God, are you gross husbands going to answer the door today? Or should I come back tomorrow?" It was Nat. At least she sounded fake annoyed instead of really annoyed. Sam opened the door for her. After a quick inspection, she dramatically shielded her eyes."Your combined post-coital glow is like staring at a bare bulb. And I've stared at plenty."

"What is it, Nat? I have to go to work."

"Well, don't forget to eat breakfast there. I noticed your plate was abandoned." She smirked and Sam felt heat creep up his neck. She was the definition of a tease--it didn't even phase her to say things like that. "Anyway, Bucky and I are going out to dinner and wondered if you wanted to come. Actually, it's mandatory. We already made a reservation for four. You'll love it--black tie."

Sam looked at Steve, and Steve shrugged. "Tell us when and where, I guess?"

"I'll text." She moved out of the way for Sam to get past. 

Sam kissed Steve goodbye at the door, and found that he really didn't have enough time to drive after having that kind of sex. Damn, flying over DC was  such a struggle, he thought with a grin.

\--

"I can't believe you wore that around Sam and Steve," Nat said, her feet in Bucky's lap.

Bucky just snickered. Natasha raised an eyebrow. "You're a dirty boy, aren't you?" 

Bucky became less amused with himself as he replied with a short "yes, ma'am."

He looked concerned, so she backed off and sat upright. "Everything okay?"

Bucky looked at her and back down at his lap. "I don't remember everything. I don't remember a whole lot from before they fucked with my head, because they wanted it that way." He took a breath. "But the first thing I remembered about Steve, even when I was trying to kill him--I mean, when it was my mission to kill him, is that I loved him."

She got up to open the curtains and the door and get him some water. He took it gratefully and seemed to come back to himself a bit, after looking outside and down the hallway. She chose her next words carefully. "He loved you, too." Bucky turned into her, head on her chest, and she pet his hair and his back.

"I'm not the person he loved," he said matter-of-factly, and she nodded.

"That's okay, Bucky. He doesn't expect you to be." She rested her head on his shoulder. "He isn't the same person, either." Bucky looked up at her like he hadn't thought about that before, smiled a bit, and settled back into her chest. "I’m glad you can trust me with this, but I’m not a professional. Do you want me to drive you to therapy today?" she asked. He was scheduled for three days a week, and today was a day off, but it could be arranged if he needed it.

Bucky shook his head.

"Do you want to kick my ass at Mario Kart?"

He nodded and leaned to kiss her neck before sitting up completely.

\--

Steve loved riding his bike, especially with Sam holding his waist. Both of them were in suit and tie, per Natasha's request. Steve had been so pent up recently that today's trip to the grocery store had been relaxing, which was probably bad. The Avengers hadn't been up to anything, and he hadn't had a chance to be a reckless jackass just sitting at home. The closest he'd gotten lately was playing Grand Theft Auto on Sam's computer, and that just made him feel guilty.

"Why all this fancy white people restaurant nonsense? I just got off work, dammit. I think y'all forget I have a day job," Sam whispered in Steve's ear.

Steve shrugged. "Natasha can be headstrong. And did you really want sandwiches for the fourth day in a row?" He gave the hostess Natasha's alias--Nora Ratcliffe--and they followed her to be seated.

Nat and Bucky were sitting close to each other, connected at the hip, and Sam and Steve took the booth opposite of them. The first thing Steve noticed was that Bucky's metal hand was covered with a glove. They were still whispering conspiratorially, though; if they were trying to be covert, they weren't doing a good job. Steve wasn't born yesterday; in fact, relatively far away from yesterday.

The waiter brought bread and explained the menu, which was an overbearing and long-winded process. Steve was starting to side with Sam about just staying at home, until he tasted the freshly made bread. Natasha ordered sweet red wine and was as charming as ever. Bucky seemed weirdly calm for being in a place so unfamiliar, but he had always liked a fancy meal and a pretty date.

"So," Steve said after the waiter left. "What's up with dinner?"

Natasha smirked. "What, Cap, forget your own anniversary?" Steve blanched and fortunately, Sam was horrified at the same time. "Kidding. Haven't gone that soft yet," she said, like Steve needed to be reminded she was dangerous or something. "No, we're here to discuss old-fashioned ass kicking."

Steve tried not to smile too obviously, weighing what Natasha said and the consequences of getting back into the fray. "You think that's a good idea?"

Sam spoke up. "Man, if you wake me up doing bicycle kicks or perimeter checks at 3 am one more time, you are sleeping on the couch. Take the mission."

Steve smiled and looked back at Natasha. "Well?"

"I did a lot of digging while you two looked for Bucky. Obviously, Triskelion was only one SHIELD base. SHIELD's been doing some cleaning, but their work is sloppy. Too many HYDRA agents are falling through the cracks."

The waiter came back and poured the four of them drinks. Bucky looked particularly pleased as he smiled over the rim of the glass. Steve addressed him. "What's up with you tonight?"

"Revenge," he said, and he took a sip. It was an ugly thing to see Bucky with so much hatred in his eyes. Steve still couldn't wrap his head around the hell Bucky had been through, and to see it unexpectedly manifest like that made him clench his fists under the table.

Natasha spoke again, after the waiter had taken their entrée orders. "Rumlow's still alive somehow, and a few others involved in The Winter Soldier Project. But as I explained before," she said patiently, keeping her gaze on Bucky, "this is not about taking out individuals. This is about preventing them from getting back together as a group. I need to know who in SHIELD has intel, and who would be willing to sell."

"So, we're SHIELD agents again?" Steve said, unable to hide his disappointment. After the resounding failure of Project Insight, he really didn't want to be on their payroll again. To his relief, Nat shook her head.

"The simple gist is this. While I’m working for SHIELD, I'll be scouting suspicious communications. SHIELD doesn't know I'm doing this, which is why I'm not using other SHIELD agents. Anyway, I'll track the communications to locations, and I need a backup team for data extraction," which Steve heard as "punching computers" though that’s probably not what she meant, "and possible ass-kicking. Sam will be useful for quickly getting in and out of where we need to be. You're here because you know how to lead a strike."

"What about Bucky?" Steve asked.

"What about me?" Bucky replied. "As far as I know I'm flying the planes and staying out of trouble."

Steve nodded carefully. "Do you think that's a good idea?" he asked Bucky directly.

Bucky shrugged. "It's better than being angry about everything," and Steve had to laugh because he was more than familiar with that feeling.

"Sam?"

"As per usual, Cap, I go where you go. Even more so now." They shared a quick glance and out of the corner of his eye Steve could see Nat and Bucky make a face at each other as he and Sam briefly kissed.

Two waiters came with their plates. When they left again, Steve nodded. "I'm ready on your call."

"I didn't need to take you out to dinner to establish that," Nat said, and she winked as she took a bite of her fish.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first mission didn't go as smoothly as they planned.

The first mission was to quietly see what was on the SHIELD database in Dubai without raising any questions.

Steve’s job was to keep people away from Natasha, who was downloading the data using a stolen passcode and ID, and Sam’s job was to draw shots towards him if it came to that. He really hoped it didn’t come to that. Bucky, as promised, was flying the getaway helicopter. It was a simple objective; come, take, leave.

As it so happened, stealing from SHIELD wasn’t that simple.

The SHIELD headquarters in Dubai, Nat reported, wasn’t as high security as the one in the States, since they didn’t carry information that was as sensitive. Sam was pretty sure this was a trial run of the team to see what worked and what didn’t, but he kept his suspicions to himself. Getting into the building itself was easy enough. Nat, in disguise with her facial features all untraceable to her, entered on street level. Sam took Steve to the roof, so he could meet Nat in the middle where the data they needed was held.

Sam heard Nat’s cool and easy confidence start to falter over the com when she didn’t have the clearance to access what she needed to access – though they were worried that might happen, there wasn't exactly a plan B. Red alerts went up almost immediately after that, and though Steve was good at knocking people flat onto their asses, Steve was more hesitant to knock out people who were more than likely on their side. He was fair and speedy trial that way.

Sam was pissed off. Sam was good at dodging shots, but he also wasn’t made to dodge shots forever. As a pararescue, he was supposed to be less of a target and more of a person who swooshed onto the battlefield after the firing had ceased.

Even with a bulletproof vest, getting shot in the stomach was not fun. He managed to make it back to the helicopter Bucky was piloting, but just barely.  Nat and Steve both apologized profusely in his ear and Sam grunted at them, turned off the correspondence, and stubbornly lay spread out on the floor.

Sam was uncomfortable. Sam was good at being back in the field, but he also got turned on by it. Watching Steve throw punches with his jaw set and Nat put people in chokeholds with her thighs got under his skin. As he laid in the floor panting and groaning, Bucky thankfully ignored him so he could just be flustered and mad.

After Nat and Steve got what they needed, he threw the ladder down to them.

He was still pissed. He was okay, he was fine, and everyone kept asking him if he was okay because they apparently hadn’t seen him glare so much before.

They got back to the hotel without incident, minus Sam whining about getting shot in the stomach. Steve babied him; Natasha rolled her eyes once she saw that he was just bruised. Once they reached their rooms, Natasha ran her own scan of the jump drive to see if there was any connection to HYDRA. It was going to take a while, apparently, so she got in the shower and Bucky flipped through channels on the busted-up TV.

Staying in the same room as Bucky and Nat was hell.

It wasn't that they were doing anything other than existing, Sam knew. He wasn't unreasonable. But if Natasha took one more minute straightening her hair in the bathroom, Sam thought he might burst. He needed to spend a good, long time in the shower to himself.

Steve had asked him like six times if he was alright, and Sam had said yes every time. Steve wasn't convinced, and also the bastard knew something was up because he had the most obvious bedroom eyes in the world.

So now Sam was out in the hall to "fetch ice." He wanted to dunk his entire head in so maybe he'd just be shocked out of finding everyone sexy. Instead he slunked against the machine with his face in his hands like Drake watching Nicki's ass.

He felt guilty, too. He knew he wanted to sleep with them both, but why when he had the hottest lay in the country who he loved so much? The heart wants what the heart wants, he thought as his dick pulsed against his zipper. He certainly wasn't still thinking about pulling Bucky by his slim hips down onto his cock, or Steve fucking him while Sam watched.

There was an idea.

Apparently getting ice shouldn't take 15 minutes, because he watched Steve walk down the hallway towards him. Sam didn't bother to get up out of the floor.

"You okay? Your stomach looked alright, but--you think it might be an internal thing?"

Sam shook his head. Steve crouched down to his level, eyeing him curiously. "PTSD things, maybe?"

"I promise it's not that," Sam said.

Steve frowned. "You're not reassuring me that you're okay. What is it? I promise you can talk to me."

Steve being the Perfect Attentive Boyfriend only made Sam feel more guilty, so Sam shrugged. Then Sam was on the receiving end of the Steve Rogers staredown and nostril flare. It could only be more complete disapproval if Steve put his hands on his hips.

Sam took a big, long breath. "Alright. You know my thing with adrenaline rushes and getting really, uh, needy after? Well, um since Nat and Bucky were there and we were also there and everyone was sweaty and you know we’ve all been doing stuff, I can't stop… ugh. I can’t stop thinking about sex with them.” He was speaking at the floor by the time he finished. He couldn’t look to see Steve's reaction because he was sure he'd broken his heart and ruined everything.

"I think that's only natural,” Steve said, reassuring and calm in such a way that Sam felt completely thrown off. “Especially since we live together and we’re closer by the day.” He grinned. “Plus, they're not exactly quiet or shy about what they enjoy doing together. It’s not like we haven’t uh. Gotten off to that together a little."

Sam laughed and shook his head. Steve sat next to him, though he barely fit, and Sam put his head on Steve's shoulder. Sam said, "So, have you thought about it too, then?"

Steve nodded. Sam wanted to be offended, but he couldn't be since he'd just confessed to the same.

“It isn’t something I’m used to, feeling that way when I’m already in a relationship. I didn’t think you’d feel like this about it," Sam said.

"What, did you just think Peggy was a beard?"

That threw Sam for a loop. "What else would she have been?" he asked, syllable by syllable.

Steve took more offense to that than Sam saying he wanted to fuck their two housemates. "She was my girl, Sam.” He got sidetracked, then, lost in memories that Sam would never fully grasp. “Well, I, at least, was her boy, and Bucky and I were inseparable." He looked off rather wistfully. "We had a lot of fun together, brief as it was."

Disbelief was an understatement. Steve Rogers was not the kind of person he pictured dating two people at the same time. Then again, it'd taken Sam a few months to understand that Steve was bi, even with direct hints. Sam could have put this together too, in theory.

"Is starting a relationship with one or both of them something you've been thinking about then?" Sam wanted to feel a little wounded, but he dealt with his own shit by disconnecting from it.

"Well, actually, I've looked up more about polyamory because of the relationship me, Peggy, and Bucky had, just so I could have more words for it. We were in a relationship called a vee, it turns out, since Peggy and Bucky had romantic feelings for me but not each other, though we all did things together. It was more of a passing thought to be with Natasha or Bucky, though." Steve shuffled his bare feet and looked at his toes. "I've maybe thought of different ways it could work, like... I would definitely be romantic and sexual with you, just like I am now, and I think Bucky too, but I don't know if I feel that way about Nat."

Sam grunted in frustration. "I just. Maybe it’s just today. Or. I don't know. This is a lot to think about." Instead of propping himself up on the machine, he flopped back on the questionably clean carpet. "I don't even know if they'd want to do anything. Hell, I don’t know how much I’d want to do anything.”

"That's okay too, Sam. We don't even have to talk to them about this if you don't want to."

Sam nodded and leaned back up to kiss Steve. "I don't want there to be weird tension, though. Like, I'm nervous about talking to them, but I don't want to shelve it, either. I don't bottle up emotions like you," Sam teased. "Besides, there's got to be a reason Bucky wore that one outfit, and they have got to be loud on purpose."

"I think you're right. We can talk to them when we get back home, I think. By the way, Nat's been out of the bathroom," Steve said with a grin.

  
"Oh, thank god."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so damn long! I had to work full time for a while and then classes started back and just lost my momentum. But I'm good at writing porn fast, so look forward to the next update.


End file.
